i'll wait no longer
by Ralph E. Silvering
Summary: Soon after Anakin is rescued from the Thrugii Asteroid Belts, he and Obi-Wan are sent undercover at a masquerade party hosted by Senator Amidala. Bereft of Obi-Wan for weeks, Anakin may not be able to resist demanding his Master's touch for long. AU where Padmé is just a friend. Everything else is still the same and Anakin is utterly shameless. Set between Seasons 6 and 7.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Soon after Anakin is rescued from the Thrugii Asteroid Belts, he and Obi-Wan are sent under cover at a masquerade party hosted by Senator Amidala. Bereft of Obi-Wan for weeks, Anakin may not be able to resist demanding his Master's touch for long.

AU where Padmé is just a friend. Everything else is still the same and Anakin is utterly shameless. Set between Seasons 6 and 7. Explicit content.

Notes: For Obikin Week 2018. Day 5. Touch starved and Masquerade Party. Two in one. Also, can be Day 3: First-time.

i'll wait no longer

Anakin had not seen his Master in over four months.

Not since the day he had disobey orders – _again_ , said an inner voice which sounded alarmingly like Ahsoka– and followed some strange ship deep into Wild Space, only to be shot down on a deserted world without the means to contact the Republic. Or Obi-Wan.

Thank the Force Artoo had been with him, or he would have gone crazy. And thank the Force they eventually ran into an enigmatic Chiss Commander named Mitth'raw'nuruodo. Or they would never have gotten off that rock alive.

The Chiss were a strange, blue-skinned, red-eyed, near-human species that lived somewhere out in the Unknown Regions. The Commander had carefully failed to say where. Mitth'raw'nuruodo, or Thrawn as he allowed Anakin to call him after several days and several escapes from death, was able to give Anakin a run for his money in tactics and was a scarily quick learner of basic and Republic protocol.

Anakin wondered if all of his people were like him and, if so, how he could ensure that the Chiss as a whole remained uncaring, or even friendly, towards the Republic.

They were busy enough without outside threats as well.

He was badly injured and malnourished by the end and he didn't remember being rescued, besides a faint, comforting sense of Obi-Wan's presence. Artoo told him later that Obi-Wan and Master Quinlan Vos eventually managed to tract his hyperspace vector and search neighboring systems until they located his ship's beacon.

Artoo also told him that Obi-Wan and Thrawn spent close to an hour conversing before they went their separate ways. Anakin had a feeling Obi-Wan's elegant sensibilities approved of Thrawn's appreciation of art.

Jedi Healer Vokara Che was in a dictatorial mood when he finally arrived back at the Temple in his sorry state. After a week of rest and his obviously increasing restlessness, she took his blood pressure, threatened him with bodily harm should he take one step out of bed, and then whispered to him that Obi-Wan had been frantic the entire time Anakin was missing.

"I don't think that man slept for weeks," she said, but she was smiling even as she shook her head at such foolishness.

Yet still Anakin hadn't been able to see him, for by the time he regained consciousness, Obi-Wan was on a mission form the Council to Mimban, a swamp-covered planet in the Expansion Region which had recently expressed Separatist leanings.

That had been two months ago, and Anakin was going quietly insane. He had never gone this long without hearing Obi-Wan's voice, feeling his presence – so familiar to Anakin that he could no longer tell where his own ended and Obi-Wan's began – and touching. Just casual touches; a brush of the hands, a companionable clap to the shoulder, Obi-Wan's palm resting softly against Anakin's cheek as he told him he was proud of him.

But Anakin lived for those touches, yearned for more of them and felt like a man dying of thirst without them.

The only other person to touch him regularly was Ahsoka, and she was…gone.

And then, thank the stars, Senator Amidala decided to host a masquerade ball for some charity she was funding, and she requested both Anakin and Obi-Wan for extra security. The Senator from Naboo was an old friend.

"I really just want you and Obi-Wan there to have a good time, Annie," she said, hands restlessly bunching in her ornate gown as she sat beside him in one of the Jedi Meditation Gardens.

Anakin listlessly tore up grass and put it in a pile. He was even worse at meditation without Obi-Wan, warm back pressed against his own, as they listened to the Force together.

"Goodness knows you both deserve it," Padmé continued and Anakin wondered for the hundredth time why she didn't end this war sooner if she was so concerned about him and Obi-Wan fighting it. Or at least make a motion to grant the Clones equal rights as Republic citizens.

But Padmé ignored his bad mood and threw grass at him, brown eyes sparkling with sudden mischief. "Now, what are you going to wear?"

Obi-Wan got back to Coruscant an hour before Padmé's ball began. Anakin had arrived at Padmé's venue, the Lyceum Amphitheater, several hours before to triple-check security. The place was magnificent, all soaring, painted roofs and high, carved arches. Padmé and her handmaidens had had the ballroom festooned with trailing vines and gauzy curtains. Then they lowered the chandeliers until their glittering lights shone directly overhead, clusters of lights turning slowly to send silver lights into the shadowy, mysterious alcoves scattered around the room.

A huge, banquet covered one end of the room and the place was filled with the rich and powerful from all over the Inner Rim before Obi-Wan's cruiser even entered Coruscant's space lanes.

Anakin thrummed with tension, heart pounding even though he knew he looked well. Padmé had dressed him all in black velvet and silk, with a tunic accented by silver thread. Tiny silver bells hung in his curls and the top half of his face was covered by a simple, elegant mask of deep burgundy and silver swirls.

Padmé said he looked very handsome and a bit dangerous but he was still nervous.

Obi-Wan appeared at the top of the stairs five minutes before the ball officially began. As soon as the Jedi Master entered the room Anakin could feel him, warm and golden and powerful in the Force. Their bond snapped back into place with a speed that left Anakin dizzy, and as Obi-Wan's relief and quiet joy washed over him, Anakin felt that warm ball of desire which had been growing all day pool low in his gut.

Obi-Wan walked down the steps, nodding politely to those he passed, but his blue-grey eyes – the only part of his face visible beneath his mask save for his auburn beard – never left Anakin's face. The Jedi Knight's mouth went dry and another flash of desire short through him, his cock twitching with interest as Obi-Wan came towards him.

Obi-Wan's smile was as radiant as the sun, his presence wrapping Anakin in glorious warmth, when he hadn't even realized he'd been cold. He reached out and grasped the younger man's shoulders lightly. "It's good to see you back on your feet, Anakin," he said in that beloved, refined voice and Anakin's knees wobbled at Obi-Wan's touch, burning through the thin fabric of his tunic, and desire rolled through him again.

He was dizzy with sudden want, his cock already half hard as he fisted hands into Obi-Wan's tunic to keep himself upright.

Obi-Wan looked…Obi-Wan looked _good_.

The Jedi Master's tunic was silk and as soft as water, a blue-grey which perfectly matched his stormy eyes. Soft, golden thread etched designs into the fabric. His leggings were midnight blue and rich as velvet, capped by supple faux-leather boots. His domino mask was sky-blue and gold, shining off his copper hair in the glittering lights of the chandelier. He felt exhausted and almost punch-drunk with tiredness through their bond, but he looked stunning.

Anakin's head was swimming with arousal and warmth and need. Unable to help himself, he tugged on Obi-Wan's tunic without saying a word and when the older Jedi stepped forward, now so close that Anakin could smell the cheap caf Obi-Wan was using to remain awake, he gave a sigh of relief and leaned forward until his forehead rested on the other man's shoulder.

He hooked his arms tight around Obi-Wan's waist and just barely restrained himself from pulling his Master flush against him, yearning to feel every part of him now that he was here again.

Obi-Wan's hands came up to stroke soothingly through his hair. "Are you alright Anakin?" he asked, his voice a delicious rumble in Anakin's ear.

Anakin shivered and shifted closer. Underneath the cheap caf Obi-Wan smelled like he always did, of cinnamon and something even richer and spicier. He smelled like home. "Dance with me, Master," he whispered. A command.

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Not until I've had something to drink. The Corellian hells can't be worse than the fortnight I've just had." He sounded wry and self-deprecating and Anakin just knew there was a story that went along with it, but his body hummed with arousal, so he just raised his head and nodded, trailing after Obi-Wan as he wove around dancing couples, refusing to let go of his hand.

When Obi-Wan stopped to pick up two glasses of some fruity, alcoholic beverage Anakin didn't even care anymore. He draped himself among Obi-Wan's back, chin resting on his shoulder and his hardening prick resting along the curve of Obi-Wan's arse.

The Jedi Master froze and then instinctively began to pull away, but Anakin tugged him back, hauling Obi-Wan hard against him, his cock nestling even deeper, curving under Obi-Wan's buttocks until Anakin was flush against him. He was fully hard now, aching with suppressed want, needing just one touch from his Master. His swollen cock pulsed once and Anakin bit back a moan, trembling as he held himself back from thrusting shamelessly against his Master in public, like some randy, exhibitionist teenager.

But Obi-Wan was finally here and Anakin wasn't sure how much longer he could control himself.

"Please Obi-Wan." His voice was wrecked by want, hoarse and unrecognizable.

Obi-Wan's entire body was as tight as a bowstring, like he would bolt at any second by Anakin just held on, trying to project all his need and love for the other man through their bond. He had loved Obi-Wan for what felt like his entire life. He had tried to ignore it, to suppress it, to will it into something tame and platonic, but he just couldn't pretend any longer.

After several heart-pounding seconds, during which Anakin was sure he had ruined everything by his precipitous actions, Obi-Wan relaxed infinitesimally. He must have been both flustered and beyond tired for, without eating anything, he tilted his head back and drank down both glasses for fruity alcohol without pause.

Then he had a third.

"Master?"

Obi-Wan turned around in the circle of Anakin's arms so that their eyes met. His eyes were slightly glassy and spots of red colored each cheekbone, but his voice was clear. "If I'm going to betray my vows dear one, then I need a bit of liquid courage first," he murmured huskily.

Anakin's heart leaped at the endearment and arousal rolled through him once more, his stomach clenching and his balls tightening, eyes fluttering shut, as he tried to prevent himself from finishing right then and there.

In front of the elite of the entire Republic.

"Obi-Wan, I – " he choked out and Obi-Wan must have realized how close he was for he pulled Anakin into his arms and then stepped them both backwards, propelling them into the sea of dancers swirling around the ballroom.

No one paid them any mind.

Anakin wasn't a dancer but Obi-Wan led and he followed, arms around each other as each step brought their groins together, sending pleasurable tingles up Anakin's spine as he felt Obi-Wan growing hard against him.

Step, together. Step, together. Anakin existed in a haze of touch and Obi-Wan, the outside world an indistinguishable haze.

Obi-Wan maneuvered them towards a darkened corner of the room, positioning them half behind a giant pillar before slowing their movements until they were merely swaying in a slow circle. Anakin pressed his throbbing cock firmly against Obi-Wan's thigh and he let himself fully relax against his Master. At every movement of their bodies, Anakin's cock rubbed slowly, deliciously against Obi-Wan's hip and inner thigh, sending ever-expanding swells of arousal spreading through his entire body until he hovered right on the edge of ecstasy once more.

And then Obi-Wan's calloused fingers skated under Anakin's tunic, brushing over taut muscle and the smooth, quivering planes of Anakin's stomach.

"Oh, Force," Anakin gasped, as those clever fingers swept beneath the waistband of his leggings, teasingly dipping lower but avoiding the area where Anakin needed him most.

Obi-Wan bent towards him, the bristles of his beard scratching over Anakin's skin and tingles crawling up his spine as Obi-Wan's lips brushed tantalizing over the shell of his ear, wet and warm.

"I can feel how close you are, dear one," Obi-Wan whispered roughly, "how long you've wanted this. Come for me."

Anakin moaned tightly, knees buckling as a spurt of cum ejected from his cock. Obi-Wan caught him, held him upright and Anakin tried to press himself even closer to his Master but was stopped by a light touch to his arm.

"Keep your eyes closed, Anakin," Obi-Wan ordered.

The Jedi Knight shivered and obeyed.

"Keep moving with me. Slowly."

Obi-Wan's hands were all over him, one on the swell of his back as he brought the younger man firmly against his answering hardness and the other hands stroking softly through Anakin's hair, sending the little silver bells tinkling.

Anakin buried his face in the hollow of Obi-Wan's throat, feeling his pulse hammering with each throb of his erection.

"Now," Obi-Wan directed, voice vibrating through Anakin's entire body, "reach down and grab hold of yourself." The Jedi Master's voice wavered, as though on the edge of losing control.

"Fuck," Anakin moaned, unaware of his hand even moving until his prick was encased in his flesh hand, hot and hard and huge, and somehow better than any wank he'd ever had before.

"Stroke yourself once, from base to tip."

Anakin did and oh stars did that feel good.

"Now," and Obi-Wan's voice was breahtless. "Come for me."

And Anakin did.

End Notes: Not sure about this one. I liked it a lot at first, but on a read through…Anyway, I might edit it eventually. Maybe make them stumble out into a quiet corridor instead of behind a pillar, lol. There's a Part II coming from Obi-Wan's POV, on what comes next, if anyone is interested.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: Obi-Wan is too tired to deny what he wants anymore. All he needs is a moment of peace in Anakin's arms.

Notes: For Obikin Week 2018. Day 5 – Part 2. Touch-starved and Masquerade Party. Two in one. Also, can be Day 3: First-time and probably Day 1: Storm. Obi-Wan's POV. Hope you enjoy!

touch

Anakin was a warm, blissed-out weight in Obi-Wan's arms.

Obi-Wan held him firmly, listening to his relaxed breathing and feeling his satiated presence in the Force, as he softly stroked the younger man's sweat-soaked curls. Touch was much more intense with their Force bond so open between them.

It was as if a howling sandstorm, consuming everything in its wake, had suddenly mellowed to a soft, whispering breeze within Obi-Wan's embrace. Anakin was always so vibrant, so loud and emotional and passionate, that Obi-Wan wondered at times if the other Jedi would someday sweep him away, when he was too exhausted to stand firm any longer.

Obi-Wan, from his earliest days, had never been a risk-taker, too aware of the consequences of his actions and too aware of the chaos in the universe. He needed that little bit of control he could exert over his own actions, he treasured it, but Anakin Skywalker always had a way of making him feel on the edge of losing that control.

And the Jedi Master in him never would have thought, all those years ago when they first met, that he would become addicted to that sensation, addicted to Anakin's near-blinding, turbulent presence in the Force.

But he had.

He knew now that if he ever lost Anakin, so much of what made him Obi-Wan Kenobi would be lost as well.

They were two halves of a whole. They belonged together, they always had. Whether that was as Master and Padawan, or as brothers in arms, or best friends, or even something more, it did not matter. As long as they were together, the Force sang between them. He wondered if others could see it, if his Jedi brothers and sisters could feel it. He sometimes thought Ahsoka could feel the bond between them, the way she had smiled at them both, her eyes fond and awed and exasperated all at once.

Obi-Wan took in a deep, ragged breath of air, his hands continuing to stroke Anakin soothingly even as the younger man slowly grew tense again in his arms. He hoped this moment of calm would last longer, but with Anakin that was always overly optimistic.

"Master," Anakin muttered, and Obi-Wan felt a hot wash of shame burn through the Jedi Knight before he made to pull away from Obi-Wan's loose embrace.

The Jedi Master didn't let him. He tightened his grip and kept Anakin pressed protectively against him. He knew the younger man's clothes were ruined from his…exertions…and that his face would be flushed, eyes glassy, as he all but broadcasted what had just happened.

Anakin was always so mellow after he got himself off; which was something Obi-Wan had been reluctantly made aware of when the boy was still his padawan, for Anakin had no shame and broadcasted loudly enough that Obi-Wan went to sleep half-hard himself.

"No one noticed a thing," he tried to comfort him. A minor Force suggestion had seen to that and Obi-Wan had always been rather good with mind tricks.

Now the Jedi Master frowned in confusion as his statement caused Anakin to tense even more. He could feel the Jedi Knight's heartbeat speed up, the movement of his lips against Obi-Wan's throat as he licked them nervously, the clenching of his hands in the Jedi Master's robes.

"Master," he croaked again, and now Obi-Wan could feel it; the coiling tension of arousal which was burning through him once more already, liberally mixed with Anakin's usual spike of fear, and shame, and something Obi-Wan couldn't quite place.

Anger was there was well, which was par for the course with Anakin.

Obi-Wan sighed.

There was a doorway next to them, leading to a dimly-lit hallway. "Let's talk out here," he murmured into Anakin's ear, feeling the shudder which ran through the other man.

But Anakin didn't let him get any further than that. The first room they passed off the hallway, Anakin hustled them into and then he attached himself to Obi-Wan like a mynock to a starship, hands roaming under Obi-Wan's tunic, firm body pressed against Obi-Wan's own and his lips skating maddeningly across the Jedi Master's neck.

Anakin rocked against him, slowly and deliberately, and Obi-Wan could no longer ignore his own throbbing erection.

There was a pile of plump pillows in rather garish colors of crimson and purple strewn upon a wide couch, located to one side of the room. A holoprojector sat on the other side, and flickering lights were placed at increments around the warm, russet-colored walls. The noise from the ball was a muted hum of music and conversation, made even more distant after Anakin used the Force to close the door behind them.

Anakin then tried to walk Obi-Wan towards the couch, stumbling a bit as he moved backwards all the while refusing to take his lips away from the Jedi Masters' erratic pulse point. Obi-Wan knew he would have a mark there later. Proof that he was Anakin Skywalker's. "Anakin," he admonished breathlessly, even as his heart tripped with guilty, erotic pleasure, and his hips rocked back against Anakin's own.

Anakin chuckled, and it vibrated through Obi-Wan's entire body.

The laughter brought Obi-Wan partially back to himself and he tried to pull away. Anakin let him go, but only so he could step backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the couch and then throw himself backwards against the mound of soft pillows that was strewn upon it.

He reclined against the pillows, hips lifting indolently to pull those decadent, soft trousers off over his hips. He didn't take his eyes off Obi-Wan as he bit his swollen bottom lip and then palmed his own crotch, squeezing his balls and letting out a contented grunt.

Obi-Wan's head was swimming and he couldn't seem to look away from the long, clean lines of Anakin's powerful body, those heavy-lidded eyes which glinted with heat and challenge. Anakin's prick wasn't hard yet but even as Obi-Wan stared at him, it gave a lazy twitch.

"Are you going to stand there all night, Master?" Anakin demanded, voice going a bit strangled as he rubbed a thumb over the bulge of his own prick and tried to give Obi-Wan a filthy smile at the same time. He looked so arrogant and utterly confident as he lay there in his nest of pillows, stroking himself.

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow even as his hands drifted towards the hem of his own pair of trousers, exposing his stomach to the cool air as he lifted the hem of his shirt. _He shouldn't. This had gone far enough._ He froze, undecided, even as his cock twitched at the sight of Anakin rolling his own balls between his palms before he swiped over the head of his cock again, running his fingertip back and forth across the slit there. And then he finally removed his domino mask. _Stars above, he looked beautiful._ His eyes never left Anakin, who stroked himself slowly and deliberately, lips parted in quiet huffs of breath.

Anakin's eyes were greedy as he watched Obi-Wan and fondled himself. "Yes," he breathed, fully palming his shaft again as he began to work his hand up and down. "You're perfect, Master." His eyes fluttered, and his back arched a bit as a twist of his own hand brought a strangled groan to his lips. "So beautiful," he murmured, the strong cords of is neck arching as his hair hung down in a golden curtain. His silk shirt lay open, exposing the hard, smooth planes of his golden chest. The Force pulsed around him in time with his long, slow strokes and Obi-Wan's own pounding heartbeat.

"Master," Anakin breathed, eyes blue and wide and earnest. "I need you."

All Obi-Wan knew next was that he was kneeling over Anakin on that too-soft bed, batting Anakin's fingers aside as he took that hard length into his own hand.

"Ooh," Anakin breathed, half-gasped. And then he was reaching up, hands removing the mask from Obi-Wan's own face. His gently teasing smile was brilliant, his sky-blue eyes more joyful than Obi-Wan had ever seen them. "There you are, Master," he said, and Obi-Wan was lost.

Anakin's cock was filling out again, thick and heavy in Obi-Wan's grasp as he held the shaft firmly and stroked. Anakin's eyes fluttered closed, head falling back against those frivolous pillows as he bit his lip over a suppressed moan. His entire body went slack at Obi-Wan's touch, every bit of tension leaving him so suddenly that Obi-Wan felt a strange surge of desire burn through him. His throat went dry at the thought that Anakin had been waiting for this, longing for this. That he needed this. Needed Obi-Wan.

"Good boy," he murmured, voice going uneven. "My Anakin," he continued fondly, the backs of his knuckles grazing across one cheek in a feather-light caress, even as he continued to stroke Anakin in gentle, barely-there movements. "Don't touch yourself," he whispered. "Wait for me."

 _Force, he wasn't going to last long at all._

Anakin purred like a cat.

Obi-Wan drew back a bit, his hands shaking the tiniest bit as they moved towards his own shirt and he pulled it over his head.

Anakin's hot gaze raked him over and he could feel himself flushing even though he knew, objectively, that he was considered attractive by a variety of species.

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow to mask his discomfort, hands going to the ties on his pants.

Anakin's eyes dropped lower to where Obi-Wan's erection was clearly visible, tenting the fabric of those tight pants. He licked his lips once before his gaze flickered back up to Obi-Wan's and he deliberately, defiantly, reached out and took his straining cock in hand again.

Anakin's head tilted up in that familiar, half-defiant, half bracing-to-be-in-trouble way Obi-Wan remembered from his earliest years at the Temple.

Obi-Wan stopped moving and studied his face carefully. "Anakin," he began, sharper than he meant to, for he was uncertain why that expectation of punishment should be writ across the features of his former padawan. Obi-Wan's punishments had never been harsh, never physical, involving either meditation, extra lightsaber practice, or some type of community service, and Anakin had often seemed uncaring as to whether Obi-Wan was angry or not once he reached his teenage years.

Anakin's eyes widened a bit and then his back arched helplessly, hand fisting his cock as a wave of pleasure seemed to take him. He bit his lip so hard Obi-Wan thought he might draw blood, and his flushed cock began leaking.

Obi-Wan felt an entirely inappropriate rush of lust. He wet dry lips. "Stop that at once," he ordered, his voice too hoarse but his diction precise.

Anakin moaned again, his elbows giving out even as his hand fell compliantly away from his prick. "Yes, Master," he gasped and Obi-Wan thought he might come again right then and there as he rode out another wave of pleasure.

"Force," Obi-Wan breathed, and then his body was covering Anakin's, his lips desperately seeking out any bit of skin he could find, skating up fluttering stomach muscles, the straining tendons in his neck, those smooth cheeks, until Anakin turned his head and claimed Obi-Wan's lips in his own.

Relief burned through Obi-Wan at the first touch of Anakin's lips. The younger man seemed intent on devouring Obi-Wan, his kisses fierce and demanding, until Obi-Wan gentled him, brushing over his mouth in soft, sweeping motions which had Anakin trembling in his arms. And then his tongue swiped into Anakin's mouth and he was lost.

The kisses turned messy and breathless, Anakin laughing delightedly at Obi-Wan's faint moans as the Jedi Master helplessly chased after the heat and taste of Anakin's mouth.

All Obi-Wan wanted was to be buried in Anakin, to be so deep inside him that all either of them could feel, for an endless, blissful moment, was each other.

He wanted to watch Anakin completely fall apart in his arms and afterwards he wanted to see that lazy, contented peace he knew would be there steal across those beloved, familiar, restless features.

He wanted Anakin mellow in his arms for longer than several seconds. He wanted just to touch him in soft, quiet contentment – no war, no politics, no missions – just them. He craved the peace of that moment like a drug and he wasn't sure how much longer he could wait for it when Anakin practically dare him to take it.

But he had to wait. He had to be patient and slow and considerate. Anakin was new to this and Obi-Wan would not – could _never_ – hurt him.

Even if he was so tired – soul-deep tired – that he could no longer seem to think straight.

One hand, which was buried in Anakin's curls, moved down to begin pulling off his trousers, while the other drifted downwards brushed tantalizingly over Anakin's puckered hole. Anakin's breath stuttered. "Yes," he mumbled against Obi-Wan's lips.

"We need to….we need to prepare you," Obi-Wan gasped, wrenching his lips away as he awkwardly shimmied out of his pants. He knelt back and looked at Anakin laid out before him, but before he could say anything else, he felt a tug through the Force and Anakin pulled him back down again, arching up into him so that their cocks brushed and Obi-Wan saw stars.

Anakin kissed him again.

 _Inappropriate use of the Force_ , he tried to say and might have projected over their bond, for Anakin laughed unrepentantly against his mouth, hot and breathless, even as they began rocking together, pleasure building in waves as they quickly found a rhythm together.

He was going to come like this any minute, the pressure building in his balls, ripples of heat tightening in his thighs, his hands gripping Anakin's tight arse and pulling him closer as the younger man rocked against him needily.

With a willpower he didn't even know he possessed, Obi-Wan pressed a palm flat against those sweat-slicked stomach muscles and pushed Anakin down, stopping him from rutting even as the Jedi Knight whined at the loss of friction. He tried to arch up against Obi-Wan again.

"Anakin." Obi-Wan's voice was quiet but the unmistakable aura of command in it had Anakin stilling at once, every muscle straining as he held himself quiescent.

"Yes, Master?"

And oh, how his wrecked, throaty voice did things to Obi-Wan that he never would have believed possible before this night. He almost came right then and there from the look he found in Anakin's eyes. Too much. He pressed his face against Anakin's clean skin, feeling the rolling waves of his Force presence wash over him in a way that was intensely familiar and almost-too-much all at once.

 _A storm in human form_ , he thought, the words from some Corellian shanty he hadn't even realized he still remembered. A giddiness rose up in him. _Sleep deprivation and alcohol on an empty stomach_ , he told himself reprovingly, but he couldn't bring himself to regret any of it with Anakin here in his arms.

"Trust me," Obi-Wan whispered, have command, half plea, his face buried against the side of Anakin's throat, inhaling his familiar scent of engine grease and sweat, and the faint, musky smell which was uniquely his and reminded Obi-Wan illogically of the desert.

Anakin didn't have to answer that because the complete trust he had for Obi-Wan shone so clearly in his bright eyes that the Jedi Master had to close his own for the overwhelming gratitude such trust produced.

Obi-Wan took a few deep breaths and ruthlessly center himself. He pressed his lips against the shell of Anakin's ear. "I'm going to fuck you now, dear one," he murmured, and he felt the shiver his words produced run through the man beneath him.

"Kriff," Anakin groaned, body tensing as his swollen prick jerked against Obi-Wan's stomach where they were pressed together.

"Yes, I thought so," Obi-Wan continued throatily, enunciating his words carefully so that his voice – which Anakin had once drunkenly told him sounded like honey and Alderaanian Ruge liquer – washed over him.

Anakin blindly turned towards him, lips parting in wordless want as he sought Obi-Wan's own once more. "I'm ready," he gasped after several more seconds passed.

That gave Obi-Wan pause, his hand drifting down to press two fingers inside Anakin's loose and slippery entrance, even as his mind wandered to the image of Anakin slicking himself open before the Jedi Master even arrived at the party.

Anakin swore filthily in Huttese as Obi-Wan's fingers stroked inside him, breaking off into a quiet whimper as Obi-Wan twisted his fingers just so. Obi-Wan loved how responsive Anakin was to his slightest touch.

"When?" he demanded, his fingers withdrawing as he nudged the blunt head of his cock against Anakin's entrance.

"I've been waiting for this all day," Anakin returned, the challenge back in his eyes, as if he feared Obi-Wan would turn away from him even now.

Eyes intent, a small smile curling the corners of his mouth, Obi-Wan angled his hips. "Ready?" he asked simply.

Anakin nodded, eyes wide as he appeared to be holding his breath. Obi-Wan could feel his racing heartbeat. "Always," the younger man promised.

Obi-Wan pushed inside in one, slow movement.

And they were finally close enough.

It didn't last long. Of course it didn't, when they had both waited so long for this. But while it lasted there was only touch and taste, the feel of Anakin all around him, watching Anakin fall apart in his arms, the overwhelming sensation of physical pleasure consuming him, and Anakin's arms around him when he came back to himself.

Afterwards Obi-Wan lay boneless and strangely drained in Anakin's arms, feeling his rough fingers stroking smoothly up and down his spine. Here, at last, was the peace he had craved, Anakin quiet and content beneath him, finally balanced in the Force. Drowsily he linked their hands together, knowing that they would have to talk about this, figure out what it meant to be Jedi in light of what had just happened…but he was just so very tired.

Anakin felt strangely tense again, his heartrate uneven against Obi-Wan's ear but the Jedi Master drifted off to sleep before he could enquire what he was worried about.

There would be time later to sort everything out. Obi-Wan wasn't going anywhere.

The last thing he felt before sleep stole him away was the brilliant touch of Anakin's presence in the Force and the warm press of his skin.

Then all was peace.

End Notes: I left the first chapter as it was, since several readers seemed to like it. I tried writing several versions from Obi-Wan's point of view and tried to balance tenderness and Anakin's obsessive and needy tendencies with Obi-Wan giving in to him for one night. Let me know how it came out!


End file.
